Forbidden Planet

by Rinelle Grey

  “That’s a little more complicated,” Karla admitted. “The short answer though, is that she has a higher chance with you.”

  Tyris frowned. “But why? She’s had three partners already, if she still isn’t pregnant, is it likely she ever will be?” He wanted to believe it was possible, but it seemed so unlikely.

  “They could all have been infertile themselves,” Karla pointed out. “None of the three have had children with anyone else either. The truth though, is that it’s not that simple. While the anysogen seems to have rendered some people completely infertile, that’s not the case with everyone.”

  “It isn’t?” Tyris raised an eyebrow. “How can someone be partly infertile?”

  “Quite easily actually. Radiation, for example, damages sperm or eggs, but not all of them. It may take longer to conceive, but it isn’t impossible.”

  “Why all the fuss about changing partners then?” Tyris asked. “If time is the issue, why not just give couples more time?”

  “Anysogen infertility isn’t caused by radiation,” Karla said. “We discovered, before the asteroid hit Semala, that when the gas is breathed in it seems to have an effect, not on the sperm or egg, but on the mucus they’re surrounded by. This fluid is designed to enhance conception in normal people, but exposure to anysogen seems to make it inhospitable.”

  Tyris’s brow furrowed in a frown. “I still don’t understand,” he said. He should have paid more attention in biology class. “What does this have to do with changing partners?”

  “I’m still not completely sure, but what we’ve observed is that some pairings seem to have little trouble producing offspring, while others are unable to, even if both adults have produced offspring in other parings. It seems to have something to do with compatibility on some chemical level.”

  He definitely should have paid more attention in biology. But how could he have known it would be so important? “How did you work all this out?” Tyris asked. “The generation of people who were born here on the planet are only just hitting the age to have children.”

  “Humans are not the only animals on this planet struggling with conception, nor the only ones we desperately need to reproduce,” Karla said wryly. “We brought only female animals with us on the voyage and artificially inseminated them on arrival to produce our first generation. Like the humans, they had no trouble with fertility in the first few years, but then they were affected as well. When natural methods began to fail, we tried artificial insemination again. We had little success, until we began inseminating the females with the sperm from many different males. This increased their chances of conceiving.”

  “So why not just mix it up?” he asked, “and do it artificially for humans too?” It would hardly be any less ethical than what they were doing now.

  “We considered it,” Karla admitted. “But inbreeding is a real concern. With such a low gene pool, we’ll have the problem eventually of course, but at least with the current method we can record the bloodlines and reduce it to some extent.”

  This was all a little over his head. “So what does all this mean for Marlee and me?” he asked. “If she’s affected, then won’t our chance of having a baby be lowered anyway, regardless of my own fertility?”

  Karla nodded. “Lowered, yes, but since only one side is affected, they are still higher than they will be with anyone else.”

  “So what sort of chance are we looking at in the eighteen months we’ve been allotted? Is it really likely?” He watched Karla’s expression carefully, looking for any signs that she knew of the councils plans to cut their time. But if she knew, she didn’t show it. He hoped he hadn’t given too much away, coming here and asking so many questions.

  “It is hard to put a number on it,” she said. “Nothing is certain in this life, but if you don’t try, you’ll never know, will you?”

  Was that a throw away comment, or had she heard something? “Karla, do you still hold to the medical code of confidentially, or has that been dispensed with here on Zerris, like practically everything else?”

  Karla stared at him until he began to feel a bit uncomfortable. “Of course. Anything you say to me doesn’t go outside these walls.”

  Still, he hesitated. He wanted to ask if she could safely remove his contraceptive chip, but the minute he did, she would know about it. And no matter what she said, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her with his secret.

  “Thanks Karla. You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.” He handed her back the empty teacup, and stood up.

  Karla saw him out, and he walked home slowly, barely noticing the cold, his mind too busy sifting through all the information Karla had given him. Theoretically, he had time to make a decision. He shouldn’t have any fertility problems for several years at least. But his time with Marlee was limited. He already knew that.

  According to Karla, Marlee’s best chance at ever having a baby was with him. And for any of it to be possible at all, he would have to remove his contraceptive chip.

  The thought sent a shiver through him. If he returned to Urslat without it, he could be court-marshalled. He thought he’d accepted the fact that he wasn’t ever going home, but the thought of removing the chip illegally made him feel almost as queasy as putting it in had.

  He opened the door to the house, and Marlee jumped out of the chair near the fire. “Where were you?”

  A reasonable question since he hadn’t gone out without her before. But it bothered him. He didn’t stop to examine why. “Out,” he said shortly.

  Marlee stared at him for a moment, eyes wide. Then she jerked her head in a nod. “Okay.”

  “What, you aren’t going to prod me for more answers?” Her simple acceptance deflated his animosity. He’d been expecting an argument. Perhaps he’d been looking for one.

  Marlee shrugged. “If you wanted to tell me, you would have. You’re entitled to your own business. Just because we’re living in the same house doesn’t mean I have the right to know everything you do.”

  What did she think he’d been up to? He couldn’t even begin to imagine. He wanted to shout back that she had no right to know everything he did. The impulse surprised him enough that he stopped to examine it before speaking.

  He was looking for a reason to argue with her. Because if he argued with her, then maybe he could pretend he didn’t want to be with her and he wouldn’t have to consider removing the chip.

  Except she wouldn’t argue with him. And he didn’t really want to argue with her.

  He sighed. “I was talking to Karla,” he admitted.

  “About what?” Marlee stood, more than an arm’s length in front of him, her arms folded.

  “I wanted to know how long it would be before my fertility was affected by being here,” he admitted. It was easier to talk to Marlee than Karla.

  “In case you want to try for a baby with someone else after the council splits us up?” Marlee’s face was blank. He couldn’t tell if she was upset by the idea or simply making a statement.

  Not knowing made his admission harder, but he said it anyway. “No, wondering how long I had if we changed our minds.”

  He paused, searching for words, emboldened by the fact that she hadn’t uttered any word of protest. “I never imagined having children, but somehow, when faced with the prospect of losing that choice, it’s not so easy to give it up.” His words echoed the thoughts he had when he first found out about the chip, but they were just as applicable now, perhaps more so. The chip could be removed. Infertility from anysogen exposure was permanent.

  He continued, before he lost his nerve. “According to Karla, I have several years to make that decision, but...” Saying that he couldn’t imagine having children with anyone else but her seemed a little too bold.

  “But I don’t have that long,” Marlee finished for him.

  “Well, nothing is going to change for you in that time. But Karla said your chances are better with me than anyone else, and well...” When had he become so ina
rticulate?

  Marlee stared at him for a few moments then turned away. “It’s very sweet of you to want to know what my chances are.”

  Tyris stepped towards her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Marlee, I know this wasn’t what you planned. But it seems wrong for you to miss out on this chance if it’s what you want.” His voice wavered.

  “I thought you didn’t want to be involved with the council’s plans?” She wouldn’t look at him.

  It had been so long since he’d made that statement, he’d almost forgotten it. But Marlee obviously hadn’t. Was that what held her back?

  “This isn’t about the council’s plans, Marlee. This is about you, about us and what we want.” He struggled to find the words, to explain properly something he didn’t even really understand himself. “If you want a baby, for you, not because of the council, then you should have one.” His throat closed up. He wanted to add that if she wanted him, regardless of wanting a baby, then she could have that too. But he couldn’t force the words out.

  Marlee turned and hugged him so quickly he didn’t get a chance to see the expression on her face. He soaked in her closeness, buried his face in her hair and inhaled her fresh scent. The fears about removing his chip faded to only a murmur in the back of his mind.

  Then she released him and stepped back, her face withdrawn. “My chances may be better, but I’m sorry, Tyris, it isn’t enough. I’ve fooled myself before with the thought that I might get lucky and fall pregnant, and it would be easy to fool myself again. But in eighteen months, the story would be the same. You’d have to leave.”

  He wasn’t prepared for her words to cut to his heart. It almost felt like she was telling him to leave now. Even Milandra walking out hadn’t hurt as much as this thought did. “I wouldn’t leave,” he said roughly.

  Marlee smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s not that simple, Tyris.”

  “How are they going to make me?” Tyris demanded. “Drag me away?”

  “They don’t have to. You’ve seen what it’s like out here. We couldn’t survive without the support of the council and everyone else here. What if you were hurt? What if I was? How could we manage without Karla’s help? How would we grow food or survive through the winter? If everyone doesn’t work together, we die.”

  “So we just ignore this? Pretend that we aren’t feeling this way about each other?” The idea seemed stupid. He could no more ignore the way he felt about Marlee than he could ignore the pangs of hunger or the chill of the cold wind.

  But what other choice was there?

  “I’m sorry, Tyris.” Her eyes were haunted. “No matter how much I tell myself that I can stay detached and be ready for it, it will hurt. And I can’t do that again. Everyone around me is fooling themselves with the same thought, but out of all the pairings, so few babies have been born. It is time for everyone here to face the facts. We are a dying race, and we need to stop fighting it.”

  Tyris frowned. Normally Marlee was so optimistic. She faced the trials of life here on the edge of space, cut off from civilization with joy and positivity. Giving up like this wasn’t like her at all.

  But the words she uttered were so final, so definite. He recalled the conversation with Nerris about how few babies were born. They all knew it, from the original refugees through to those who were born here. But they still ignored it. Why?

  Hope.

  Without hope, they had no reason to get up in the morning, no reason to plant this year’s crops. Without hope, they would all give up.

  But how much longer could hope alone sustain them?

  Chapter 17

  Tyris heaved another shovelful of snow over his shoulder and swore. If he never saw another snowdrift it would be too soon. But snow kept falling and falling, and if it wasn’t shovelled, it would cover the village. And since winter was only half over, there would be many more snowdrifts to come.

  All around the village, others did the same thing, though some had stopped to lean on their shovels and chat. A few surreptitious glances were being thrown in his direction.

  He scowled then glanced behind him to where Marlee talked to Beren, just out of earshot. Hadn’t the villagers found something else to talk about yet? Were they still debating if the two of them were sleeping together, or had they moved on to discussing why Marlee wasn’t announcing her pregnancy yet?

  He wondered how long the fascination would last. Hopefully, they’d find something else to talk about when winter ended. Because Marlee wasn’t going to be giving them a pregnancy any time soon.

  He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or relieved that she still avoided the topic. He hadn’t been brave enough to start it himself, so the answer was probably relieved. Sometimes though, he lay awake at night and wondered if he was making a big mistake.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” a far too cheerful voice interjected.

  He didn’t need to turn to recognize Jaimma. “You don’t have a penny. Do you even know what one is?” he asked.

  Jaimma’s shovel hit the snow beside him, and gratitude at the help cancelled out any lingering annoyance at her intrusion. “No, but I don’t think you’d take me up on the offer of a kiss, so it will have to do,” she said cheerfully.

  Taken aback by what he could only describe as flirting, he looked over towards Marlee. The surprise must have been written on his face because Jaimma laughed.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on trying to steal you from Marlee. Not unless she’s finished with you anyway.”

  Despite her being Marlee’s best friend, apparently Tyris didn’t know Jaimma that well. He cleared his throat, not sure what to say to that.

  Jaimma didn’t seem to have any trouble finding words. “So, has Marlee mentioned that it’s her birthday in a couple of days?” She threw another shovelful of snow over her shoulder.

  Tyris stared at her. “Birthday?”

  “Guess not,” Jaimma said. “I figured she wouldn’t. We’re planning a party at the hall. Kind of a surprise, though I’m sure she can guess. We were wondering if we could count on you making sure she turns up at the right time.”

  “Of course,” Tyris managed, still a little surprised that Marlee hadn’t so much as mentioned her birthday. She must have known he would find out. “What sort of party?”

  “Oh, there’ll be some food, music, probably dancing, and a cake of course. It’s kind of an excuse for a big get together. Takes everyone’s mind off the snow.”

  “Anything that takes your mind off the snow is a good thing,” Tyris said with feeling.

  Jaimma laughed. “So can you bring her around just after the sun goes down?”

  “Sure, no worries,” Tyris agreed. Then a sudden thought curdled the pit of his stomach. “Um, will there be presents?”

  Jaimma leaned in close, even though Marlee stood quite a distance away. “Yasmyn, Janey, and I have been working on a dress for her. She’s going to love it.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Tyris’s brain worked feverishly. What could he give her?

  It would’ve been easy on Urslat. He would have ducked down the shop and bought her jewellery. No, scratch that, he would have bought Milandra jewellery. For Marlee, he would search out a book or perhaps some of the beautiful yarn he remembered seeing in one of his grandma’s magazines.

  But daydreaming about what he would buy her on Urslat was pointless. He wasn’t on Urslat. Here there were no stores to buy things from. Here people made things, like the dress Jaimma mentioned. Only he lacked the skill to make anything.

  Jaimma continued to shovel snow next to him, and Tyris let the monotonous work occupy his hands while his brain continued to create and discard ideas for a present for Marlee.

  A child of around five or six, came bounding across the snow, so bundled up against the cold she looked round as a ball. Tyris stopped and leaned on the end of the shovel, waiting. Marlee and Beren joined them as the girl arrived.

  “Jenka’s in labour,” she said breathlessly. Her eye
s shone.

  “Thank you for letting us know” Marlee’s voice held a note of suppressed excitement. The girl nodded and bounced off towards the next group of people. Jaimma and Beren headed off after her.

  Well that was a short lived interruption. Tyris picked up the shovel and cut into the snow again.

  Marlee looked over the path critically. “That’ll do for now. We can finish it later.” Her eyes sparkled, and her cheeks looked rosy. “We need to head over to the hall.”

  “Why? We’re not going to be there at the birth are we?” Tyris asked, aghast. He didn’t know much about birth, but he’d seen enough in movies to know he didn’t want to be present.

  Marlee laughed. “Of course not. Jenka will have Karla and her mother and sister there to help her. And Rejan of course. Her room would be far too crowded if the whole village tried to fit in.”

  Tyris let out his breath. “Then why do we need to go to the hall?”

  “A new baby being born is exciting, and it doesn’t happen too often,” Marlee explained. “It can be a risky process, so everyone waits at the hall for news and updates and to support Jenka in thought, if not in presence.”

  That didn’t sound so bad. A day hanging out with the villagers, chatting and waiting. It would be a pleasant change to shovelling snow. It might even be fun.

  If anyone had suggested three months ago that he would consider hanging out with the villagers as a pleasant pastime, he would have probably sniggered. How things had changed.

  He followed Marlee inside, putting the shovels away as she opened the cupboard. “Can you bring the bread and cake I made earlier?” she asked him, not pausing in her rummaging.

  Tyris carefully wrapped the bread and cake in a dry cloth then waited. Marlee finally emerged from the cupboard holding something resembling a small, red ball. Tyris raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s a candle.” She held it out to show him, and he could see the short white wick sticking out of the top. “Everyone brings a special candle to light. We keep them burning until the baby is born.”